Druid Claw by Joey Flack

   The orange bulb falls off

and a selenite rectangle appears 

                                 in dislocation.

A vagabond 

of epiphanies

in the 

autobiography of

a building 

can't rest his eyes

in the poesis of color.

Could we meld ourselves 

when the collector 

looms? 

A planchette 

shook my hand

once

or a baker's dozen times.

I'd like to feel I'm occluded,

we're supposed to

           keep things clandestine.

I expect 

to hear 

my shoulder 

whisper

things incomprehensible.

I predict 

recycling skin

pushing up ochre;

spray paint spits

on my

sugar water wafer.

I hope to one day read 

the hagiography of a cactus,

before someone steals the selenite. 

sketch of a druid

Joey Flack was born and raised in Indiana and writes abstract and experemental poetry mostly about introspection and metaphysics. His work is mostly on Instagram, but he has a couple pieces published on Azarão IV.